


Vault of Endless Shadow

by Goshawks



Category: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Cursed Vaults (Hogwarts Mystery), M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goshawks/pseuds/Goshawks
Summary: Vault of Endless Shadow is a complete rewrite of the second-half of the sixth year of the game, beginning at chapter fifteen in the canon story and altering the entire narrative beyond that point. The story follows Jackson Goshawk, a broody, humorous and cockney Ravenclaw student.
Relationships: Jacob & Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery), Rowan Khanna/Player Character
Kudos: 2





	1. The Shadowed Shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Beatrice forces herself along on Jackson's scouting mission to the lakeshore, their senseless bickering is interrupted by an unsuspected presence, but one incomparable to the true threat lurking from a hidden shadow.

The Black Lake was quiet and calm at sunset. A slight breeze rippled across the shore atop the dark water, dancing across the surface as it stretched from the shore to the waters beyond.

The pale orange shades of the falling sun cascaded upon the shore and turned the thin pale sands a much brighter shade of yellow as foliage surrounding the shore was speckled by the dusk light.

In spite of the foreboding whisperings of a cursed aura recently surrounding the lake, it was picturesque upon its surface in the beauty of the sunset, as most things in life were.

It seemed an unwritten tragedy that all things that possessed such alluring beauty always seemed to have something insidiously evil lurking underneath.

And sometimes, perhaps even hiding in the shadows upon its very edges.

The serenity of the lake was interrupted by a stir of movement in the sloping hills of windy grass that descended a path from the castle of Hogwarts down to the lakeshore below.

Though its perpetrators were invisible to most eyes, though the movement of tall reeds scuffing harshly by clumsy feet could be heard by all beings present.

The stirring of uncoordinated footsteps continued to move from the hills down into the sands of the lakeshore, footsteps left in their wake as they traveled upon the sand until the rocky clefts above shielded sight of the castle’s looming presence.

With a loud ruffle, cloth seemed to appear out of thin air, followed by the revealing of two people in its place.

The tallest chestnut-haired boy was dawning the robes of a Ravenclaw student, while the much shorter blonde-haired girl was wearing a showy black jacket that simultaneously seemed too large and too tight on her.

As the cloak was swung and draped over the shoulder of the older boy, he arched his back to stretch.

“Bloody ‘ell, Bea.'' The boy groaned, sounding irritated. “Did you ‘ave to bring that stupid coat with us?”

The younger blue-eyed girl shot up a scalding look of resentment at him.

“My name is _Beatrice_. And for your information, Jack, it's cold out here,” She reminded him in a stiff voice.

A brief pause passed before she sharply added, “And my jacket _isn’t_ stupid! Ismelda thought it was cool.”

“Ismelda wears the same soddin’ sweater every day,” Jack scoffed, kicking a stray pebble around in the sand, “Doubt she washes it, either.”

“If all you’re going to do is make fun of me,” Beatrice suddenly snapped, “Then maybe I should just go back and tell on you to Dumbledo—”

“No!” Jack hissed, whirling around in an instant to grab Beatrice by the sleeve.

Closing his pale brown eyes, he exhaled a sharp huff of defeat.

“No.” He sighed. “Stay here all ya like, if it’ll keep you from tellin’ Dumbledore. Jus’ stay close to me.”

As Jack turned to walk further towards the shore, he could hear Beatrice scoff as she followed after him.

“I’m surprised you’re so worried about being in trouble with the adults,” She said incredulously, “The way my sister talked about you, I thought you were cool.”

“Blimey, I don’t fit _your_ definition of cool?” Jack gasped in a mockingly hurt voice as he averted his eyes to look over the lake.

“My prestigious social status… ruined. I am just _beside_ myself with dismay.”

Annoyed at his sarcasm, Beatrice frowned and spitefully kicked a nearby stone as Jack turned his gaze, expecting to fling it several feet into the water but just barely managing to turn it over.

As she did so, Jack approached the shore’s bend next to its old wooden dock, staring into the murk and shells dotting the shoreline as he did so as if searching for something.

Beatrice watched him for a moment before speaking, “unlike you and my sister, Ismy and I don’t care what Dumbledore thinks. We do what we want to do.”

With his focus on the lake’s rippling water broken by her voice, Jack sighed and turned back to her.

“Good for you, Bea. Now, can we just-”

She shot a glare at him. “It’s Bea _trice_.”

Jack was unable to stop himself from grinding his teeth to the point of aching. “ _Beatrice_.” He rubbed his temples with a groan.

“Look, I don’t wanna fight with you. I just—”

“Then stop making fun of me,” Beatrice growled.

“I’m not tryin’ to make fun of you,” Jack sighed, “I just… I just _really_ wanted t’ be alone for this. I’m upset that you’re here ‘cause it could be dangerous, and I—“

“Too bad for you,” Beatrice sniffed. “But the only reason I came here is to prove a point to Penny.”

Jack stopped while inspecting nearby foliage beside a cliff to blink at her in confusion. “Huh? What point?”

“That Hogwarts is-”

“Cor, right, _right_ ,” Jack interrupted her with a snort. “Hogwarts is _doomed_ , we’re all gonna _die_. I forget your new career as a doomsday prophet.”

“This is what I’m talking about!” Beatrice shouted, abruptly raising her voice with emotion.

She stalked over to where he was standing and kicked a knot of loose sand straight into the thick concealing brushes of foliage beside the cliff.

“You’re just all the same! You and Penny both! Nobody takes my feelings seriously! I’m just— I’m—!”

Jack suddenly froze, eyes widening in alarm as the muffled sound of a cough reached his ears from the thick brush behind them.

Instantly, Jack whirled around, grabbing Beatrice and pulling her behind his back in an instant, backing himself and her away from the brush.

“Get behind me,” Jack hissed, “Don’t move...”

Beatrice’s anger had immediately melted to fear as she pressed into Jack’s shirt, her breath quickening as she held onto his arm.

“What is it?!” Her voice trembled.

“I heard a noise,” Jack whispered, before drawing his hawthorn wand and pointing it to the brush, still backing up with one arm clutched protectively around Beatrice.

“Whoever you are,” Jack snarled at the distant foliage, “I can hear you! Get away from us!”

Jack could hear his own fearful panting as he felt Beatrice quivering behind him. He continued to back away until they were at a safe distance.

The perpetrator of the cough in the foliage did not move and made no movement or sounds.

Jack tightened his grip on his wand, strengthening his aggressive resolve to mask away his fear.

“This is your last warning! Stay away!” He shouted out, teeth gritted as he waited in vain for a response.

He contemplated if he should reach out with his legilimency to detect their presence, but knew that his skills were far too subpar for the will it would take, even with the potent rawness of natural-born legilimency.

Instead, he turned around, getting down on his knees and gripping Beatrice by the shoulders with his hands, looking her in the eyes.

“I’m gonna go look, alright, Bea?” He said in a hushed, hurried tone. “Stay right here,” he cast a hurried look over his shoulder, “And... get ready t’ run, if it comes to that.”

Beatrice gaped at him with huge, terrified eyes. “What?! What if it’s the fugitive... or Rakepick... or a monster—?!”

“It may not be _anything_ ,” He said sharply, making an effort to keep his voice level. “But if it attacks, you ‘ave to run to the castle and find help.”

Beatrice pressed into his chest, her previous bitterness completely forgotten in the place of fear and frantic worry, “B-but you could _die_...” 

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” Jack assured her in a hiss, unsure if believed himself. “I... I can fight ‘em off.”

Jack got up and breathed out before turning and walking steadily to the brush on trembling legs, his hawthorn wand pointed out, preparing to strike.

“Jack…” Beatrice whimpered behind him, sounding on the verge of tears.

Letting out a breath, Jack finally was mere steps away from the foliage where he had heard the coughing. He paused for a moment, heart racing.

" _Lumos!_ ” He whispered the incantation, a light flickering into existence from the tip of his wand as he forced it into the foliage, pushing it aside with his body to reveal a concealed space, only to find it empty.

With a trembling arm, he pushed his wand deeper around the brush, pushing the foliage and bushes aside in an effort to reveal anything, but only finding barren spaces and gaps in the brush, large enough for a human to hide without, but barren of any human.

Sighing with both relief and unease, Jack pulled away from the brush, swiping remnants of thorns and leaves from his chestnut hair. He turned back to the shore, blue eyes searching for Beatrice.

“S’all right, Bea,” He announced, letting out a steady breath. “There’s nobody there… maybe it was jus’ my imagination—”

Jack froze, a new wave of fear crashing over him as he realized that the first-year had vanished from the shore.

Frantically, Jack whirled back to the brush, then back to the shore before darting back out into the open, heart surging in panic.

“Bea?!” Jack cried, sprinting around the shore in search of her, sending sand flying everywhere without thought.

“Where are you?!” He called out, voice breaking in terror.

“BEATRICE—!”

“I believe you’ve lost something.”

A new voice, foreign and cold as death, split the still evening air.

Jack turned around, eyes huge as he beheld the source of the voice standing, towering behind him, appearing like a dementor from the unknown.

Except this dementor donned a sleek white robe, appearing an ominous blood orange in the light of sunset, along with a onyx-colored wand as thin as a needle.

 _It’s him._ Jack felt sick with terror. _It’s the Azkaban fugitive..._

Piercing yellow eyes scrutinized down at the boy, the striking gaze seeming to strike him in the heart, paralyzing Jack in place.

Though, it was not the white-robed assassin who Jack’s horror-stricken pale eyes were on. It was the young girl that he had wrested in one arm, and with the other, had his wand pointed straight at her throat as her eyes were squeezed shut, shaking violently in his grip.

_Beatrice...!_

The assassin smiled sickeningly at him, thumbing his wand across Beatrice’s neck as she trembled. He spoke at last, breaking the terrible silence.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Jackson Goshawk.”


	2. Blood In The Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The white-robed assassin makes a hostage of the helpless Beatrice and Jackson must put his life on the line to save her against an impossible lethal foe with shrouded intentions.

Several moments of a stricken silence passed between Jack and the white-robed wizard, unbroken save for the ragged, panicked breaths of Beatrice.

The girl opened her mouth to struggle to give a terrified scream, only for the assassin to clasp his hand over her mouth, his needle-like wand jutting harshly at her ear.

“Do try to stay quiet, little one.” The assassin’s accent was thick, and his voice was eerily calm.

Jack let out a rapid breath of fear, before raising a trembling arm to point his wand at the white-robed man, teeth gritted in a frantic mixture of fear and rage.

“Let her go,” Jack snarled, “ _Now_.”

The man sneered at him. “How rude, Jackson. Is this how you greet your new friend?” 

“I don’t know who the bloody _hell_ you think you are, but you’re _dead_ ,” Jack’s voice was shaking, though he took a step towards the man, wand still raised, “I know why you’re here… you’re here for _me_.”

The assassin raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’ve heard? From whom, I wonder…?”

“Let her go, you coward!” Jack shouted. “She’s just a _child…_ this has _nothing_ to do with her.” 

His yellow eyes widened with a hungry look in them, “Oh, I disagree, child. I’d say this girl is _crucial_ to my dealings with you.”

Jack gritted his teeth, fear giving way to rage. “You’re here for me! Fight me then, you bathrobe-wearing son of a _bitch_!”

“Fight _you?"_ The white-robed man chuckled. “Such arrogance… the little runt thinks he can duel me…”

Spitting in anger, Jack took another step towards him, breath quickening. “Who the hell _are_ you? What do you want from me?”

“You can call me… _Viktor,_ though that is not my true name.” His voice was icily calculative. “I come from an organization you may be familiar with… with a deal that I believe is of interest to you.”

Jack’s eyes stretched wide before hardening in rage. “So it’s _true_ … you ARE from ' _R_.’”

Viktor blinked his wolfish eyes at him. “‘ _R_ ,’ you say?” After a brief pause, the man chuckled. “Ah, I understand. You do not know our name… not yet.”

“What the ‘ell do they want from me? _Tell me!_ ” Jack demanded, taking yet another pace at Viktor, who took a sharp move back in response, ominously brushing Beatrice’s cheek with his wand.

“Patience, child,” Viktor soothed. “Allow me to explain...” 

He relaxed his grip on Beatrice, causing her to breathe out in mild relief. Using one practiced hand to slip into his white robes, pulling a sleek white feather from the inside.

Viktor held the white feather up in his fingers for Jack to see clearly in the dusk sunlight.

“I trust you remember what this is?” Viktor asked, giving him a chilling smile.

“The… the white quill…” Jack gaped, brown eyes staring at the quill as if mesmerized by it. 

_The quill… the one from the white eagle-owl threatening to kill one of my friends… he sent it?!_

“Very good,” Viktor affirmed, “This quill, in particular, was one my dearest owl Fuyu delivered. Aren’t her feathers beautiful?”

Jack flinched in realization. _The owl… Fuyu, not Artemis… it belongs to him._

 _“Fuck,”_ He hissed under his breath. “No…”

As the cold truth sank into him, Jack found his eyes back on Beatrice’s terrified, tear-stricken face.

His voice broke sharply as he finally spoke, “Goddammit, just let her go! Don’t hurt her…”

Viktor blinked calmly at him. “Whatever made you believe my first intention is to hurt this poor girl?” He purred as he casually continued to brush his wand along her throat.

“No, Jackson. I came to propose a deal… a _settlement_ , if you will.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “A settlement?”  
  
“To clear yourself of your debt,” Viktor explained, eyes glinting. “And spare me from having to give this child an... _unfortunate_ end, to repay it otherwise...”

Beatrice gave a strained, terror-stricken squeal, flinching slightly in his restraining grip.

“What is it, then?!” Jack demanded, voice rising. “Just bloody tell me what you want, and I’ll do it!”

“Very well,” Viktor smiled. “What I require… what they require… is for you to come _home_.”

“... _Home_?” Jack flinched, the word deeply disturbing him. “What the hell—?”

“To return with me, to where you belong,” Viktor continued, “With us… with the Re—”

Before the white-robed wizard could finish, in a heartbeat, Beatrice wrenched her hand free of the assassin’s relaxed grip on her throat, immediately reaching for her wand concealed in a pocket of her thick coat. 

With a cry of terrified fury, she thrust her free arm upward, straight for the assassin’s eye, shouting no incantation, but instead plunging the tip of her wand directly into his left eye socket.  
  
Viktor recoiled with a twisted screech of shock and fury, the other arm releasing Beatrice and allowed her to wrench away, falling at his feet with her wand gone, still embedded in his eye.

 _“J-Jack!”_ She cried out, staggering to her feet and struggling several feet away. “S-STOP HIM!” 

Within the same heartbeat, Jack lunged in front of Beatrice, wand swinging dramatically over his head as he slung a savage spell for Viktor.

“I warned you to stay away, bastard!” Jack growled. “And now you’re _dead!_ " 

_“BOMBARDA!”_ Jack shouted. A flaming blast leaped with a strength unlike he had ever managed from his wand, swirling in a lethal mass straight for the white-robed man as he stumbled and hissed in furious pain.

Though Jack’s spell had been quick, Viktor’s serpent-like reflexes proved to be quicker as he pushed a magical shield from his wand, uttering no incantation and yet fizzling the explosion on impact with his shield. 

_Nonverbal magic…_ Jack thought, gritting his jaw as he circled Viktor. _Fuckin’_ _great…_

Viktor whirled to face him, moving with astonishing resolve despite the copious blood now dripping from his eye after having yanked Beatrice’s wand from the socket and snapping with the ease of a twig.

The white-robed man struck at Jack as he whirled to face him, practiced hand lurching out to strike a spell from his sleek wand yet again with no incantation. Jack twisted his feet backward to dodge, only to be struck by an unexpected force, stumbling into the sand with a cry of pain as he felt something stricken in his ribs.

_Christ... the bloody pain—what did he do to me?!_

Grinding his teeth, Jack launched backward onto his ankles, ignoring the stabbing pain now ailing his sides. He flung his wand across his chest, aiming to strike Viktor once more.

 _“Diffindo!”_ The slicing spell escaped his wand, and this time, it struck its mark. A white splice was seen streaking across Viktor’s forehead, followed by his coarse snarl of pain as a splurge of blood flew from a shallow cut.

Still ignoring the stabbing pain in his side, Jack heaved himself to the side, further away from Beatrice and narrowly dodging another nonverbal spell from Viktor’s ebony wand. 

Sand kicked and flew everywhere as the white-robed man advanced for Jack, blood dotting his white robe from the wounds on his face as he sent a spell flying at Jack, though this time, with an ominous incantation, hissed from his lips.

 _“Kōruwaiyā!”_ Viktor called. In an instant, a thin wire flung from the end of his wand. The wire flew at an incredible speed and coiled around Jack’s throat with an almost magnetic grip, instantly pressing painfully to his jugular and causing him to cough in immediate alarm and pain.

Instinctley, Jack’s hand drew up to the wire and tugged at it, only to be greeted by pain, even more, sharper than the one stabbing at his side. Jack gave a confused and pained gurgling noise as the pressure of the wire mounted without warning.

Suddenly, the assassin moved behind Jack and pushed him into the sand, forcing him onto his back. Jack found himself staring up at him, petrified at the yellow eyes as the man’s hands grabbed both ends of the wire.

_“JACK!”_

“ _Bea-trice!_ ” Jack coughed, calling to her, twisting his head painfully to meet her terrified gaze, her body blurred from the pain. “ _RUN-_!”

Beatrice stared at him for another horrible moment, her blue eyes stretched wide with tears and panic before she lurched to her feet and sprinted past them, flying up the hill and for the castle.

A surge of fleeting relief gripped Jack as he coughed out, feeling something wet and warm fall down his chin.

_She made it out… everything is still… okay..._

Viktor grabbed Jack by the chin, forcing their eyes to meet. 

“Enough of this foolishness, you wretched, juvenile, filthy cur,” Viktor hissed. “If I can’t take you alive… well… I’ll take your _head_.”

Jack grabbed at his hands with his own, frantically fighting to push him away with strength fueled by horrified adrenaline.

A gurgled groan of pain left Jack as he felt a vignette of darkness enter his vision, his body felt heavier, and stars danced in his vision as his legs began to flail less and less wildly at the sands. 

He opened his mouth to screech, but no sound came out, only a stricken, cutting gurgle. The blood from Viktor's eyes and head dripping down on Jack's own body as Jack's own lifeblood seeped from his lip, trailing down to the sand.

 _This is it._ Jack thought numbly, arms going slack and sinking into the sand. _Is this how I die…? It hurts..._

_I’m sorry... I couldn’t... I couldn’t..._

Jack's glazed eyes searched the area around him as if it would be his last.

"Look at me," Viktor hissed, drawing a hand back over Jack's chin forcefully, "I want to _see_ you die."

Jack could not speak, but his eyes widened. Out of the corner of his fading vision, there was the hollow sound of brush frantically rustling as a sudden figure leaped from them and dashed out into the open with a frantic speed.

He sprinted in their direction, his rowan wand pointed wildly for the assassin’s head. 

“STOP!” 

That voice. Jack _knew_ that voice. 

_Rowan?!_


End file.
